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by LexieCarver



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 04:11:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8129992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LexieCarver/pseuds/LexieCarver
Summary: SPN Writing Challenge/ @roxy-davenport vs. @chuckshvrleyPrompt: jack-o-lanternPairing: Crowley x child!readerWord Count: 1,943Tags: crowley angst and fluffWarnings: Um… none aside from the reader’s parents dying in the very beginning but otherwise, it’s a very fluffy Crowley story. The reader is nine-years old.





	

[Also posted on my Tumblr-](http://roxy-davenport.tumblr.com/post/150972091501/home)

 

Fear was running rampant through your system. You could hear your own quickening heartbeat. Adrenalin was the only reason you were able to move. Everything around you faded out and all you could hear were your parents’ screams.

 

“Run,” your mother said.

 

And you did run, right into the closet only taking one small detour to grab a few essentials. You locked yourself in the closet and hoped this would work. A few minutes ago, you were all sitting down to a nice family dinner and then “they” barged in. They had strange knives and weapons. They said your parents did horrible things and they were here for revenge. Maybe they did do things but they were still your parents after all. One of the men was clearly possessed, at least from what your mother taught you of ghosts. No one stood a chance against what you assumed to be hunters, especially ghost- fueled ones. Why hadn’t your mother taught you how to fight back when hunters break in?

 

You shivered in the closet. Screams were echoing in the hallway behind you. They would find you any minute. You hurriedly put all the ingredients together cutting yourself a little. Blood spells were the most powerful at least that’s what your mother told you. You could hear footsteps approaching the small closet. You screamed, worried that there just wasn’t enough time. The men were talking to you. One of them had his hand on the doorknob. You cowered expecting to meet the same fate as your parents when suddenly you ended up in a strange room.

 

You appeared in the room still screaming and cowering. It was quite a sight to behold. The floor was cold and on first inspection made of stone. There were lots of people all around you, looking at you. It made you feel suffocated almost. The spell had to have worked since this clearly wasn’t your home anymore. This was what hell looked like? Where was the fire? The brimstone? You were utterly confused.

 

Suddenly one by one everyone in the room changed their eye color to completely black or red depending on their status. Your dad had black eyes. He explained to you a little about demons. He told you he was a freelancer and didn’t serve any King. You gulped now as you looked into their eyes. There was a big chair, a throne really in the front of the room. The man sitting on it looking confused yet intrigued. Maybe teleporting to Hell wasn’t such a great idea?

 

“Would someone like to tell me how a nine-year-old child teleports to Hell?

 

“All the safeguards are in place sir.”

 

“Are they now? Then how did she get here!?”

 

“Magic,” you answered in a scared squeaky voice.

 

Crowley narrowed his eyes and looked you up and down not quite believing your story.

 

“There is an old advanced ritual to teleport here, sir.”

 

“I am quite aware of that but I am sure you are all aware that if it’s so bloody easy to get in here, my dear mother might come here as well.”

 

There were several hushed whispers and gasps.

 

“I suggest you fix the problem. NOW.”

 

“Oh course, sir.”

 

Crowley slowly turned his attention back to you.

 

“Witchcraft…hmm. Well aren’t you a very special little girl.”

 

You took your strange knife out of your pocket. Your mother told you it was special and it would protect you from a lot of powerful beings. It looked strange and had weird symbols on it. The second you pulled it out Crowley squinted, completely confused about how a nine-year got hold of a demon knife.

 

“Who the hell is this kid?”

 

You were terrified with these men all around you but your mother always told you that you were more powerful than anyone knew and all you had to do was believe it. So the look in your eyes was one of fury masking all fear. The demons around you were actually quite shocked. A demon moved out of the corner of your eye and the knife flew out of your hands and into the air killing him. The knife then returned back to your hand.

 

“My parents were killed in front of me by hunters so you best back off.”

 

Crowley smirked at the tough girl routine in a girl your age. You had real power, raw potential, and an anger that rivaled his own. You would make a fine princess of Hell, a true heir. You were nothing like Amara; a brat that grew up so fast he couldn’t build a bloody connection. No, you were different, malleable and pleasantly dark. Your parents were killed by hunters? How intriguing. He had to know more about you. He didn’t like the demon that you killed anyway so you actually did him a favor.

 

“I didn’t tell you to start attacking the girl. I’m the King but you all think you can make up the bloody rules as you go along?”

 

You stared back at him throwing your shoulders back and standing up straighter.

 

“But sir, she killed-.”

 

“I never instructed anyone to harm her. Do try and keep up. He acted of his own free-will, thus endangering himself. Period. EVERYONE GET OUT, NOW!”

 

Everyone ran away hurriedly not wanting to anger the King any more than he already was. He was sure there would be talk around the demonic water cooler so to speak. He was in the middle of a meeting when suddenly a child shows up, kills one of his minions and all Crowley does is kick everyone out. Damn he could smell a rebellion on his hands. He’d have to kill a bunch of demons later.

 

“You are quite the nine-year-old child.”

 

“I’m nine going on 10, demon.”

 

“Tsk, tsk, dear. Respect your elders. I’m the King of Hell, Crowley.”

 

“The King… of Hell.”

 

You weren’t expecting that though you should have, with a throne in front of you. Of course he’s the King. You gulped audibly. Getting on his bad side wasn’t a good idea even with your powers. Your curtseyed like you saw in the movies.

 

“Nice to meet you Crowley. Can I call you Crowley?”

 

“Of course, dear. It’s nice to see that some youth are still taught manners.”

 

“I’m Y/N.”

 

“That’s a beautiful name for a captivating young lady such as yourself.”

 

Crowley didn’t want to spook you. You had lowered your knife and you relaxed your stance a bit. You were even talking to him. All good signs. He was making you feel safe.

 

“How did you get here, little lamb?”

 

“A spell. My parents… two hunters got them. I hid and did a spell and wham.”

 

“So you teleported yourself here? As my demon said before, that’s upper- level magic, dear.”

 

“My mom was a witch. I learned the craft from her when I was five. My dad’s a demon. Black eyed.”

 

Crowley smirked at your classification of his minions.

 

“He was a freelancer.” You said answering Crowley’s unasked question.

 

You were powerful indeed if you could predict his line of questioning. He couldn’t mess up here. He had to get you on his side. He put his hands up and slowly left his throne. Your eyes widened in fear and you clutched the knife. He slowly inched over to you, making his movement slow and fluid. When he was in front of you, there was no masking the fear and some tears ran down your cheeks. He smiled a smile that never reached his eyes. He knew what it was to be an orphan after all. He wiped the tears away and you collapsed in his arms dropping your knife. Crowley was a bit taken aback, not used to feeling emotions. Before he knew it he hugged you close to him. You cried for everything that had happened and the ramifications of what it would mean going forward. Crowley let you cry. He wished it wasn’t his favorite suit but so be it. That’s why he kept making demon tailors. After a long time he looked in your eyes and spoke to you softly.

 

“You’re safe here with me. I will keep you safe, little lamb. I will teach you how to control your powers. You can be the Princess of Hell. Would you like that?”

 

You were so overcome with everything that had happened that you could only manage a slow nod of your head. You took a deep breath closed your eyes and steadied yourself before you spoke again.

 

“I would like that very much but…there’s something I need to do first. I know you can protect me. My mom was right to tell me to go to the hell if anything happened. But those hunters… one of them was possessed, I think. I don’t want to have to look over my shoulder. I want the ghost to go away. It’s Halloween and…. can we…. Can we go pumpkin picking?”

 

“I’d love to.”

 

Crowley snapped his fingers and a demon appeared.

 

“Yes, sir?”

 

“The mansion -- make it child friendly, please.”

 

“Of course, sir.”

 

The demon bowed respectfully and left in a hurry. Crowley looked down at you and offered you his hand teleporting you both to the pumpkin fields. He had no idea what you saw when you looked at the pumpkins. To him they all looked the same but to you each one was different; some had leaves, some had minor imperfections and some were huge while others small. You picked the biggest one that had leaves on it proudly presenting it to your adopted father. Your adopted father, the King of Hell. That fact alone left you speechless and beyond happy. No one would dare hurt you again. He had an inkling why you wanted to come here and he knew that he had to let you do. Crowley proudly held the pumpkin for you, taking you both back to his opulent chambers. He placed the pumpkin in front of you handing you your demon knife, choosing in this moment to trust you. You happily carved the pumpkin alongside Crowley who gave you tips on how to create the most terrifying jack-o-lantern. He occasionally read your mind to see that he had indeed already won you over.

 

“I’m finished. Crowley can you teleport us up top? I need to place this by a window.”

 

“Of course, dear.”

 

Crowley placed you in an elegant hotel room. He carried your jack-o-lantern gently over to the window and lit the candle. You ran over to turn the lights off, watching the light from the candle eerily flicker across the room. You stared out the window lost in thought about your future and what had happened, not paying any attention to the people outside in their Halloween costumes.

 

Suddenly a shadow enveloped the room blocking the light from the candle and you looked up to see the two hunters. Crowley could see your fear and nearly growled at the two men. The possessed hunter smiled until he noticed the jack-o-lantern in the window. As in the lore of Halloween, the spirit was afraid of it and promptly ran away. The other hunter just laughed at the jack-o-lantern, inching closer to the hotel room. That is until he saw Crowley step out from behind you to grab your little hand. He wasn’t going to go up against the King of Hell. He turned to leave but before his feet hit the pavement, Crowley snapped his fingers, killing him on the spot.

 

“No living in fear anymore, dear.”

 

“No fear. Let’s go to home.” you said, taking his hand.


End file.
